


Amongst the wild flowers

by OtterAndTerrier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterAndTerrier/pseuds/OtterAndTerrier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione gets a very special surprise for her 19th birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amongst the wild flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Last Saturday was my beloved Hermione's birthday, and I was able to finish and post the fic I started exactly a year ago, plus another drabble that I don't know whether to post here or not in light of it being a drabble and the fact that I never posted Ron's. Oops.
> 
> The idea was born inspired by two adorable fanarts from **tlpursuit** (stolen plot alert!), so thank you, Emma! There's a tiny reference to my drabble ["Peppermint Stick"](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_edit_property.php?storyid=6512665) that is not necessary to read at all but I thought I could mention.
> 
> I'm not saying there's an award winning kiss here, but it is possibly the best I've written so far. That's not really guarantee of anything, but I enjoyed working on it.
> 
> Thanks a lot to **jenahid** for the beta!
> 
> I don't own anything Harry Potter related, but if JKR is fed up and wants to give me the rights to Ron, I'm sure I'll treat him better.

The usual cheerful din of lunchtime in the Great Hall had a bittersweet taste for Hermione today. Not for the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she found herself flooded with nostalgia: it was September 19th and, for the first time in seven years, she was spending it away from Harry and Ron.

She was especially homesick for Ron. During the past months, they had hardly been apart from each other more than a couple of hours. In a different life, one she had lived not so long ago, she would have thought such behaviour was unnecessary, pathologically dependent, and that there was no way she’d ever have a relationship like that. Things, however, had changed. What they had didn’t feel clingy. Sure, both of them had wanted to spend as much time as possible wrapped around each other; after years of waiting and longing, Hermione thought it was only logical. But the rest of it felt just as natural. They needed to check on the other, lean on each other, hold each other’s hand, lie together in silence at night and just _be there_ , because for weeks they had been the only thing that kept them whole, that made them not fall apart.

Now that she was at Hogwarts on her own, Hermione had had to learn how to keep herself together without Ron.

She felt a sudden blow against her arm and glanced sharply in Ginny’s direction. Her friend looked torn between exasperation and guilt.

‘I'm sorry, but I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes!’

‘What is it?’

‘I think you’ve got a visitor.’

‘What?’ Hermione asked, following Ginny’s gaze.

There, peeking through the half open door, wearing a paper hat and the biggest grin, was Ron.

She turned to Ginny, speechless, but the other girl laughed and said ‘Go!’

Hermione got up and started walking, her feet moving faster as she got closer, and a good thing it was. Several students had spotted the unexpected guest and were rising to their feet for a better look.  
She broke into a run to cover the last stretch; when she reached him, Ron took her by the arm and tugged her outside into the Entrance Hall, closing the door firmly behind them.

‘Ron! What are you doing here?’ she asked as she threw her arms around his neck, barely containing the excitement in her voice, but before he could reply, she saw over his shoulder that Ron wasn’t alone.

‘Harry!’

‘Surprise!’ Harry shouted, also wearing a party hat on top of his messy black hair and blowing a paper horn. Hermione let go of Ron to give Harry a quick hug.

‘But… I thought you worked on Saturdays!’ she said, turning back to Ron.

‘Asked George if I could have the afternoon free. It was a special occasion, after all.’ Hermione couldn't help but notice how his smile seemed to infect his voice somehow. ‘And since you’re free today as well... you’re not going to tell me you’ve already scheduled a study session or something, are you?’

‘No—of course not! So… what, I can have you for the whole afternoon?’

‘And evening. We’re having a small dinner party at Hagrid’s, with Ginny, of course, and Neville and Luna as well—’

‘We’re bringing down our own food, though,’ Harry clarified.

‘I’ve already talked to McGonagall about it, so you don’t have to worry,’ Ron added proudly. ‘What do you say?’

It was unbelievable. Her two best friends, whom she had been missing not five minutes ago and who had in fact hardly ever made a big deal of her birthday, had come all the way over to Hogwarts to see her. She had no words.

Hermione gave Harry another hug and kissed him on the cheek; then, she walked back to Ron and looked up at his grinning face.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly and, placing her hands on his shoulders for support, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Her original intention had been for it to be chaste, considering they were still in the middle of the Entrance Hall and their other best friend was standing steps away from them. But they hadn’t seen each other for three whole weeks, and she’d missed _this_ , too. Ron wasn’t interested in their first kiss in weeks to be a peck, either, but right when she felt his tongue grazing her bottom lip, Harry coughed.

‘Do you want me to bugger off and spend the afternoon with Ginny?’ he asked weakly.

‘Sorry, mate, but I warned you and you still wanted to come,’ Ron told him, still holding Hermione around her waist. ‘And yeah, that’s a brilliant idea, thanks!’

‘Ron, no!’ Hermione reprimanded, her face heating up as she looked apologetically at Harry. ‘We’re very sorry Harry, and of course we don’t want you to go.’

Harry waved a hand and looked past them towards the door to the Great Hall.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he told Hermione with a big smile as Ginny walked up to him and reached out to take his hand. ‘D’you mind? We’ll see you later, anyway, and let’s be honest… you were a little disappointed that it wasn’t just Ron, weren’t you?’

‘Of course not!’ Hermione protested. She meant it; she was really happy that _both_ of her friends were there… although she craved some alone time with Ron. ‘But if you insist…’

Ginny laughed.

‘Yeah, he does! I’ll keep him out of your lane, now let’s go before everyone comes out to have a good look at The Heroes!’

Harry and Ginny headed towards the marble staircase, while Ron took Hermione’s hand and led her outside.

‘Let’s take a walk.’

They went down the front steps and through the grounds, and Hermione noticed Ron was leading her around the castle, in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

‘We’re not going to the lake?’

‘No, I reckon we could do without an audience.’

Autumn hadn’t quite settled in yet, and it was a particularly sunny day; there was a warm breeze sweeping the grass and occasionally a wisp of clouds would darken the grounds. They walked without rush, enjoying the feeling of their linked hands and the other’s presence.

Ron glanced at the Whomping Willow, swaying innocently in the distance, and said, ‘I don’t know how you’re doing it. Well, you and everybody else who came back.’ He squeezed her hand briefly and continued. ‘I walked from the gates, and all the while I had to keep forcing myself to remember how you, me and Harry would sit by the lake after exams, because all I could see were giant chunks of stone lying about, people running, people dying…’

‘It—it’s been tough,’ Hermione said. ‘Everywhere you look, everywhere you go... The only times I don’t think about it are when I’m in class or studying.’

‘And sleeping?’ Ron asked knowingly.

‘No,’ she had to admit. ‘It’s not as often, but I’ve still got nightmares. The calming potion is really helping, though. Are you having it? The proper dosage, just like the Healer said?’

‘Yes. Haven’t had any... you know.’

She did know. They had both experienced panic attacks frequently over the summer, apart from the horrible nightmares; it had worried them that they would continue while Hermione was at Hogwarts and Ron training to become an Auror, away from each other and with no one who could really help. They had finally resorted to going to a consult at St. Mungo’s, seeking help for the wounds that were not visible.

‘I’m awfully glad Ginny decided to come in the end. We’re leaning a lot on each other, but... I think it affects her more than she lets on. Maybe it would have been better for her if she’d stayed.’

‘She said she wanted to do it for Mum. Dunno how that’s going to help anyone, but maybe it will. Besides,’ Ron said, his lips twitching, ‘Ginny’s really strong. If she thought she could do this, she will.’

Hermione nodded.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, curiosity winning over her interest in being surprised.

‘The greenhouses.’ Ron gave her an excited smile. ‘You’ll see.’

She supposed it was a good reasoning: no students would go around the greenhouses on a Saturday afternoon; they were most likely to go over to the lake, the Quidditch Pitch, or even the edge of the forest.

They continued to border the castle, elaborating on what they had written in their letters: Ron’s courses, the intensive training they were getting, how George and Molly were doing, Hermione’s classes, the way Hogwarts had changed. Before she knew it, they had turned the corner to the greenhouses. Ron, however, didn’t seem to be looking for any secluded space, but some particular spot. He led her to the furthest side overlooking the cliff, where there was a small wild flower garden and an ancient, slightly crumbling stone bench.

‘I’ve never been here,’ Hermione told him, marvelled at the sort of mundane beauty the simple flowers offered in contrast to the moving, noisy plants under Professor Sprout’s care, and the fact that it had been a secret to her for so long.

‘Well, we’ve never really come this way, it’s a bit out of sight.’

‘Yes, but how do _you_ know about it?’ she asked, surprised.

‘Sixth year.’ Ron exhaled heavily, sitting on the bench, and Hermione suddenly wished she hadn’t asked. He saw the conflicted expression on her face and hurried to say, ‘Oh no, not because—the opposite, actually! I came here to escape from Lavender once. She got distracted when we were leaving Herbology and I ran the other way.’

Hermione couldn’t help chuckling at that, and the pang that the memories of sixth year had given her vanished. They had already talked at length about that dreadful period. She had yelled at him when he told her the reason everything had gone to waste between them, frustration getting the best of her. How many months of pain could have been avoided if only he’d been straight with her, if he hadn’t been so blind? But Ron hadn’t been trying to excuse himself—although he had suggested under his breath that perhaps _she_ could have been clearer in her intentions as well, which Hermione pretended not to hear. They couldn’t take anything back, but they needed an explanation in order to move forwards and, while it hadn’t been easier, it’d served its purpose.

Hermione sat facing him on the bench and folded one leg under her.

‘I never brought her here,’ Ron told her, looking earnestly at her. ‘I didn’t even try to come back by myself, in case she found me. It was in the spring, after we made up… I thought I could bring you sometime.’

‘And two years later, you did.’

Ron laughed, his ears reddening.

‘Ron,’ Hermione said, tugging at his sleeve. ‘You know you shouldn’t have been thinking that unless you were actually planning on doing something about it.’

‘I’m sorry.’ His face was turning crimson altogether and he scratched the back of his neck.

‘I know,’ she assured him, taking his hand and rubbing her thumb over his wrist. ‘You’ve brought me now, though, and that’s… that’s very sweet.’

She pulled at his arm again and Ron scooted closer on the bench, twisting his torso to face her. Hermione’s arms flew to his neck to pull him down to her, and he kissed her. With the certainty that no one would be able to interrupt them now, they took their time. He sucked on her lower lip, nibbling gently at it, and she tilted her head up, feeling her whole body quivering in response. They pulled apart for air several times, their breath hot on the other’s lips, before meeting again in the middle. Her hands joined at the back of his neck, sliding into his hair, and her nails raked his scalp softly. Ron groaned into her mouth and pulled her closer, and his long nose was squashed against her cheek as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Hermione felt her chest pressing against his, her heart beating wildly. Her leg was starting to cramp under her, and she would have wanted to be in any other position where they could be as physically close as possible, but she didn’t want to break apart. She hadn’t fully realized how much of a torment the past three weeks without Ron had been until now, and the part of her brain that wasn’t completely overwhelmed by the sensations he sparked in her knew that he would be gone again by the end of the day. She would make this last for as long as she could get away with, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Their tongues collided and rubbed against each other inside her mouth, while Ron’s hands slid from her waist to her lower back, kneading her muscles in a vain attempt to bring her even closer. His fingers found a gap between the hem of her jumper and the waistband of her jeans, and her skin grew hot where he touched her. Ron’s hands, now fully under her top, moved again towards her waist, his thumbs reaching out to find her hipbones and dipping lower. She moaned, and he retreated, smoothing her jumper back down as their lips separated.

His face was flushed and Hermione felt her own cheeks glowing, both looking bashfully at each other as they struggled to catch their breath.

‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away,’ Ron said hoarsely, something she had come to find endearing and incredibly arousing.

‘That’s really okay,’ Hermione told him, giving him a shy smile and finally taking her numb leg from under her, extending it on the bench behind Ron.

‘Yeah? Still, I didn’t want to get _too_ carried away,’ he said, rubbing her leg to restore the circulation. ‘Not the right place, is it?’

‘No,’ Hermione agreed weakly. He might have saved himself from becoming too excited, but his massage wasn’t really helping _her_. She closed her eyes and took a couple of slow, deep breaths until she felt her heart rate return to normal, or as close to as possible. She took his hands away from her denim-clad leg to make him look at her. ‘Thank you, Ron. For coming, I mean. It’s a really wonderful present.’

Ron’s eyes opened wide and he nearly jumped from his seat.

‘Bloody hell, your present!’ he exclaimed. He slapped his own forehead and turned to look at her again, gobsmacked. ‘You didn’t really think _I_ was your present, did you?’

‘Well,’ Hermione said slowly, baffled at Ron’s reaction. ‘I don’t—I suppose not, but I mean—you don’t have to give me anything, really—’

He shook his head slightly, amused.

‘Hermione, I don’t think that highly of myself to come here empty-handed and expect you’ll like me well enough for a present,’ he said, raising an eyebrow at her. Hermione chuckled, thinking how wrong he was.

‘Okay. What’s my actual present, then?’

He put a hand into his pocket and Hermione stared expectantly at it, but he didn’t take it out right away. He chewed on his lip, looking thoughtful.

‘I wanted to give you something special this time,’ he said, his eyes wandering off towards the flowers around them and the cliff beyond. ‘And then I remembered I haven’t given you a present since your 17th birthday—’

‘What?’ Hermione frowned. That couldn’t be right.

‘Yeah.’ Ron snapped his eyes back to her and extended his fingers to count. ‘I gave you a quill for your birthday in sixth year. Then we… became estranged, so I didn’t get you anything for Christmas—wait, no, I did, but I—well, I obviously couldn’t give it to you.’

‘You did?’ she asked, touched.

‘Uh… yeah,’ Ron said, looking embarrassed. ‘It was just sugar quills, I told Ginny to give them to you from her instead. We were on the run for your 18th birthday, so I obviously couldn’t get you anything. And I—I wasn’t there for Christmas, so…’

His expression darkened, but Hermione pushed the sad memories away.

‘You gave me a peppermint stick,’ she reminded him, smiling at the sweet gesture Ron had had with her after they’d escaped Luna’s house, and the fact that it hadn’t really mattered to her that it was almost New Year’s by then.

Ron snorted.

‘Hardly counts. Well, in any case, I knew I had to give you something extra special, to make up for it—’

‘Ron, you don’t—’

‘Hermione, it’s already done, so stop arguing,’ he interrupted her, thrusting out his chin in mock challenge. She was tempted to kiss it, but she didn’t think Ron would take it very kindly that she interrupted his big moment again, and she was becoming very curious about her “extra special” present.

Ron finally took his hand out of his pocket, holding a small square box in burgundy velvet. Hermione’s heart jumped to her throat. Jewellery was _definitely_ extra special.

She took it with trembling hands and opened the lid.

Inside the box, it sat a glass pendant, the size of a walnut, encircled by a golden frame. Hermione stared at it, feeling her mouth open in marvel. The glass was tinted with different, blending hues of blue, and etched in white there was the silhouette of an otter.

Hermione tore her mesmerized gaze away from the necklace to look at Ron, her eyes round and a million things running through her head. It was the most beautiful, delicate, meaningful thing she’d ever seen.

‘Ron,’ she whispered, ‘this is gorgeous, it’s—’

‘Your Patronus,’ he said, smiling nervously. ‘You know how it’s a guardian, and it makes you feel better because of the happy thoughts you need to conjure it? I thought it’d be—nice and…well, I know it’s not like having a Patronus all the time, but I thought—perhaps when you’re feeling upset, you could look at it and remember… your happy thoughts, and that might—might help.’

Ron finished this wavering speech and looked anxiously at her, his ears peeking bright red from under his hair. He shouldn’t have needed to be so nervous. Hermione wouldn’t have minded if he’d given her a chocolate frog; she wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t given her anything at all. The necklace wasn’t only the best present he’d ever given her: it was the best present she’d ever had. It had probably cost him every Galleon he had saved. She thought of telling him off for spending so much on her, but she knew it’d probably hurt his pride in finally being able to afford something nice for _her_. Ron had probably helped designing it and all, telling the maker what he wanted it to mean. It was one of a kind, and hers… like he was.

‘Help me putting it on?’ she asked in a quiet voice.

Ron unclasped the gold chain and pulled the necklace from its case. He held both halves around Hermione’s neck and leaned forward to fasten it on the back, his breath and his hands tickling her skin. She moved her own hands to keep his in place as he made to pull away, and Ron looked questioningly at her. Hermione turned her face and looked him in the eye.

‘I know it’s cheesy, and I know you won’t believe me,’ she told him, still whispering, as if she wanted her words to be so soft they could penetrate through his pores, ‘but you’ve got to try, because… you _are_ my present, all of you, and I do like you well enough.’

He grinned, brushing his thumbs over her collarbone.

‘But you liked the necklace, too?’

‘Loved it,’ Hermione said, and she closed her eyes as her lips found his again, considering she could do without words to show him just how much.


End file.
